by Catherine Newman
First sentence: “Picture this: a shorelined peninsula jutting into the Atlantic Ocean.”
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Content: There is a lot of swearing, including many f-bombs. It’s in the adult fiction section of the bookstore.
I usually don’t take my boss’s recommendations when it comes to books; she and I just have too different of reading preferences. She likes deeply literary things (and mysteries) and I prefer character- and plot-driven genre fiction. So, when she told me I really needed to read this one, I kind of brushed it off.
And then I kept seeing it everywhere, from people whose tastes are more similar to mine, and whose opinions I respect. And so I picked up for myself for Christmas.
I hate to say it, but my boss was right: I needed to read this one. It’s the story of one week in summer, a family vacation – mom, dad, two adult children, one partner, grandparents – all coming together. It’s about nothing, really, just snippets of their vacation. But it’s also about everything. It’s about growing older as a woman, watching your kids get older and become adults themselves, about redefining what it means to be a woman, a person who was once needed and now no longer is, really. It made me laugh – Newman’s observations about menopause, abou the barely contained anger and frustration, about the conflicting emotions (rage, gratitude, regret, joy) you constantly feel as a woman, are spot on – and it made me sob.
It’s a slight thing, this novel, but it packs a punch. And I am glad I finally got around to it.









